1932 Ford Coupe

Featured on the cover of the new 2008 Moon catalog, Tim Cunha's bitchin' '32 highboy-with perfect stance and chopped top-has infected the entire Moon Equipment Co. with Salt Fever. It will surely infect even more hot rodders with the incurable affliction.

It's a bitchin' coupe. A big motor, fenderless body, and enough safety gear to ensure you'll race again. But these are all lessons pioneer racers like Fred Larsen taught us years ago. When a car looks effortless, that's when you know you've done something right. It might be the stance or the body line. Often it's even hard to put into words, but something works. You can see it. You can hear it.

After a noticeable void left by the Larsen & Cummins streamliner, seeing a Moon Equipment-sponsored racer back on Bonneville's sacred salt is notable. And better yet, this car is a regular competitor at the El Mirage meets. Long overdue, the freshly painted '32 highboy has stepped straight into the dry lakes spotlight. From the wide-eyed logo perfectly placed, peering out from the bumblebee stripe on the grille shell, to the tasteful signature of renowned pinstriper Hiro "Wildman" Ishii tucked in the corner of the decklid, this coupe hits the wow button.

It's funny how worlds collide, coming together through serendipitous events. Deuce owner Tim Cunha from Monterey, California, and Willie Dorsey from San Diego met years ago at the L.A. Roadster Show. Through their shared interest in all things hot rod, the pair became fast friends. So when Tim acquired a vintage dry lakes coupe, he did what all good racers do: He asked his friend to be the crewchief.

The fenderless chopped Deuce is a classic dry lakes racer. But look closer, it's all in the details, from the blocked Pines Winterfront grille to the louvered hood fabricated by sheetmetal guru Jack Haggeman Jr.

Willie had just finished restoring the notorious Fred Larsen '27 T roadster that held about a billion SCTA records from back in the late '50s and early '60s, so they had plenty to talk about. While Willie restored the legendary roadster back to museum quality, he got to know the entire Moon crew, including owner Shige Suganum and company president Chico Kodama, as well as Fred Larsen and his wife, Marylou.

During their first season of dry lakes racing, Tim campaigned his Deuce in the same configuration as it was purchased. With silver scallops and blue paint, sporting Cunha's and Dorsey's last names proudly on the hood and a base motor that Dwight Strobel installed, they began the steep learning curve. Unfortunately for them, by this time Fred had gone on to the big race in the sky, so when they ran the coupe at El Mirage or Bonneville, the folks from Moon would check in on them. Even Marylou would come by the pits to make sure they were doing fine.

Explaining the lure of land speed racing in his West Coast surfer voice, Tim described it this way, "There is something about being out there! You look at the hills around you, and they have been there from the beginning. I was looking at an old photo from the late '30s, and I thought, 'I know right where that spot is!' It's like you're stepping into those pictures and living a part of history. It's great to be living and making your own history. It doesn't matter if it is big, because you are a part of it ... doing something you have appreciated your entire life."

On the salt when things go right, it's all smiles. Sporting the classic Larsen-Cummins T-shirt is Chico Kodama, crewchief Willie Dorsey, and (right) car owner Tim Cunha.

Forging their raucous crew in the first year, Tim and Willie grabbed anyone within arms' reach, including Chico and his nephews and Tim's son Steven. Picking up the cell, they recruited more folks: Cain DeVore, an independent filmmaker from Los Angeles; machinist Scott Bruner; and Neil Burns. It didn't matter what your day job was; everyone got dirty. By midseason they were having so much fun that they started offering the crewmembers the opportunity to drive, adding countless rookie stickers to the communal helmet.

For years, Chico had been too busy with his duties at Mooneyes to even consider going racing, but it was always in the back of his mind. Then he finally got his chance. Putting on the firesuit and looping his foot into a Dean Moon gas pedal was surreal for him. Carefully selecting his words, Chico said, "Driving the car on the salt was my dream. Tim and Willie made it happen for me, and I really appreciate that opportunity. It's not that often that you find someone who will let you hop in and drive. I don't care what kind of car it is. So that opportunity really meant something to me."